


In His Colors

by MovesLikeBucky



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, God Ships Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26890045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MovesLikeBucky/pseuds/MovesLikeBucky
Summary: They take their vows in a garden.  Intheirgarden, underneath the old apple tree.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 130





	In His Colors

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so Aiwa posted [this art](https://twitter.com/aiwasensei/status/1313984722645680128?s=21) in GPH and I went feral in discord and wrote this in the chat, please enjoy our boys gettin' hitched xD

Aziraphale strides through their back garden, the picture of excited and nervous energy wrapped up in a suit that's cut is just this side of 50 years out of date. It's strange for him, as is the color. Black as the night sky, with a crimson shirt underneath. His bowtie is black as well, with the barest hint of red stitching. It's no tartan, but for today...well, for today it feels necessary. Feels _right_. He tries not to fidget out of his skin as he waits underneath their apple tree.

Today Aziraphale is going to get married. To his best friend, his oldest compatriot, and his most esteemed rival who has stood next to him for the whole of the Earth's existence. Today, in their garden and under this apple tree, he will say all of the things he's always wanted to tell Crowley, as eloquently as he is able. He has all of the greats on his side - the poets, the lyricists, and novelists, too. Has read their words over and over and has written vows that would make God Herself weep in tenderness. Memorized every line of them, written them onto his being, into the fabric of his soul. His love, inkdark on his very bones, marking him Crowley's in this life and the next.

"Aziraphale?"

"Crowley, my dear-" HIs words catch in his throat at the sight of his dear demon. He's clad in beige and cream, with a beautiful gold waistcoat that is at least 40 years out of date. He's wearing Aziraphale's colors, and his necktie is Aziraphale's tartan. If his heart had been singing before, now it is shouting to the heavens at the sight of him. At the image of Crowley sauntering towards him, shy smile on his face and the faint tinge of a blush on his features. Nerves of his own apparent in every tilt of his hips and in every twitch of his hand as he approaches.

"Red looks good on you, angel," Crowley says softly as his hands trace the curve of Aziraphale's stomach, gliding up to adjust the bowtie that, surely, does not need adjusting.

"Oh, my darling..." Aziraphale straightens Crowley's necktie that also, surely, doesn't need it. There's something to be said for having something to do with one's hands, when things are this important. "The gold brings out your eyes, and you're wearing tartan..."

" _Don't_ get all gooey on me, angel," Crowley snaps with no bite, only fondness. "Someone once told me tartan is stylish, after all."

Aziraphale feels the pinprick of tears at his eyes. Tears for how far they've come, for how far they've come, for how far they will still go together. Crowley cups his cheek gently, swipes the tears away with his thumb as he leans in to steal a kiss.

"Shall we, angel?" He asks against Aziraphale's lips as he joins their hands together. "Yes, my darling, I think we've waited quite long enough..."

Aziraphale speaks his vows, and Crowley in turn speaks his. They cry and they laugh, they hold each other tight. Their hands stay clasped together between them as they take their first steps into a future - a future that is _theirs_.

The heavens don't shake and fall; hell doesn't split the ground open and swallow them. Somewhere, on the edge of creation, beyond everything else that She has ever set into motion - a single tear of happiness rolls down Her cheek.


End file.
